


It's Just Love

by snuckybarnes



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Cabin Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Jon taking care of Martin, M/M, The Lonely - Freeform, post 159 pre 160
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23532631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snuckybarnes/pseuds/snuckybarnes
Summary: Martin doesn't always have to be the one to take care of Jon.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 27
Kudos: 282





	It's Just Love

**Author's Note:**

> Some hurt/comfort where Jon takes care of Martin for a change was requested, and I am happy to provide if I can! This ended up kinda short but I wanted to post it before 162 so.

After years of sleeping alone, Jon was surprisingly quick to get used to sharing a bed with Martin. He was soft and warm, and as they slept Jon would get as close as possible, tucking his face into the crook of Martin’s neck and pressing his cold toes against Martin’s legs.

As he awoke he was doing none of this and, frowning, he reached blindly across Martin’s side of the bed to seek him out. When he found nothing but cold sheets, Jon opened his eyes and pushed himself up from the bed.

“Martin?” he called, looking around the room.

There was no response. No movement downstairs, no water rushing through the pipes, no nothing.

Jon did his best to ignore the cold fist that was tightening around his heart, reached for his glasses and got out of bed. As his feet hit the floor he hissed and shivered from how cold it was, and quickly pulled on socks and a cardigan before leaving the bedroom.

By the time he finally found Martin, Jon’s pulse was running like a freight train and his hair was a tangled mess from how many times he’d run his hands through it. Martin himself was sitting on the floor, in the corner between the sofa and the wall, hugging his knees to his chest. He must have heard Jon call out to him, can’t not have, but never replied.

Jon sank to his knees in front of him, carefully covering Martin’s hands with his own. When he didn’t recoil from the touch, Jon moved one hand to cup Martin’s cheek.

“Hey,” he said, softly and unable to keep his voice from trembling slightly. “What’s the matter?”

“Everyone’s left,” Martin replied, barely more than a whisper. “Sasha. Tim. Mum. You. You’ve all gone.”

Jon’s heart wasn’t racing anymore, but it broke nonetheless. “I’m right here, Martin. I came back. _Look at me_.”

Martin blinked and met Jon’s eyes, but it felt like he was just seeing through him. “Why?”

“You know why,” Jon said, doing his best to smile. “I love you.”

Martin dropped his gaze. “It’s so cold here. I’m cold.”

And he was. Usually Jon was the one to seek out Martin for warmth, but now his skin was ice against Jon’s palm.

Jon took a deep breath. He had to focus. “Well, it’s not going to get better by sitting on the floor. Come on, I’ll get a fire going, and then I’ll make you some tea. Does that sound good?”

Martin didn’t respond, but he did make an effort to stand as Jon put an arm around him and helped him up. Carefully, Jon helped him onto the sofa and wrapped a blanket around him. “There we go. All snug, yeah?”

“You’re going to disappear soon,” Martin said with a sad little smile. “I don’t want you to.”

“I won’t,” Jon assured, wrapping Martin in his arms. “I’m just lighting a fire, alright? You’ll be able to see me the whole time.”

He pressed a kiss against the top of Martin’s head before standing. He was, indeed, only taking a few steps in order to reach the fireplace, where he scooped of the ashes from yesterday’s fire before he started to build a little pile of logs and old newspaper. As he did so, he spoke, hoping the sound of his voice would ground Martin and remind him of his presence.

“I was thinking we could bake some bread today, you know. Staying here isn’t exactly a permanent solution, but it wouldn’t hurt for it to feel homely while we live here, don’t you think? And there’s nothing more homely than the scent of fresh bread, or so I’ve been told. And if that goes well we might even try to make scones for breakfast tomorrow morning. I’ve been meaning to bring you breakfast in bed, but it’s always so hard to leave before you. You’re very comfortable to cuddle.”

Jon let his rambling fall quiet as he looked over his shoulder at Martin. He hoped it wasn’t just his imagination that Martin’s eyes were a little more present.

Once the fire was crackling and Jon was certain it would survive on its own for a little bit, he crossed the small room to sit down next to Martin. He wrapped an arm around him and held him close. “You’ll feel better soon, dear,” he promised, hoping desperately that he was right. It wasn’t hard to see that it was an echo of the Lonely that was reaching for Martin with its foggy claws, but it was different from last time.

At least he was physical, and not threatening to slip through Jon’s fingers.

“You’ll come back to me,” he whispered into Martin’s hair. “After everything we’ve been through, how could you not? You’re strong and stubborn and loved. The Lonely doesn’t have any claim to you.”

Martin didn’t respond, but he did rest his head against Jon’s shoulder, and that was more than enough.

They sat there until Jon had to get up to add another log to the fire. When it was fed, he walked over to put a hand on Martin’s cheek. It still wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t freezing either.

“If I make us some tea, do you think you’ll be up for that?”

It was slow, but Martin’s eyes moved to meet Jon’s. “Tea sounds nice.” His words were faint, but it was still the best thing Jon had heard today.

Jon nodded and tucked a lock of hair behind Martin’s ear. “I’ll be just a moment then.”

Martin spoke as Jon withdrew his hand. “Jon?”

“Yes?”

“Will you…” Martin frowned and his gaze fell. “Talking helped, earlier. Will you sing, so I know you haven’t gone?”

Despite the severity of the situation, Jon came very close to blushing. “I can do that.”

And he did. As he got the kettle going and prepared the cups, he hummed loud enough for his voice to carry into the other room, occasionally letting words slip into the melody. It had been a long time since he was really comfortable with singing in front of others, but he didn’t mind it so much when it was with Martin. When it was _for_ Martin.

Soon enough, he returned with two full cups of tea. It was never as good as when Martin made it, but thankfully Martin was only passionate about tea, instead of snobby, and had never complained.

Jon put his own mug aside on the table, and held the other out for Martin. Martin’s movements were sluggish, and his grip on the mug felt weak, so Jon covered Martin’s hand with his own, content to stand like that for as long as he had to.

Eventually, Martin brought the mug to his lips, drinking, then swallowing. “Thank you, Jon.”

Jon smiled and hoped it was reassuring. “Anytime.”

“You’re not leaving, are you?”

“Of course not.”

He sat down next to Martin, as close as he could get. They drank their tea together, partly in silence, and partly with Jon saying whatever came to mind. He only ever moved to check on the fire.

Eventually, their cups were empty and placed on the table. Martin brought himself closer to Jon and spoke, unprompted.

“I’m sorry.”

Jon brushed a hand over Martin’s hair. “What for?”

“You know. For checking out like that.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Martin shrugged against him. “I worried you though. I know you’re not leaving me, just— For a while there I couldn’t do anything but question it. It’s still strange to know you’re different.”

“You did worry me,” Jon agreed, continuing to stroke Martin’s hair. “But you don’t have to apologise for it. I’m here for you when you’re hurt, you know.”

Martin huffed. “I thought caring for people was _my_ job.”

Jon’s hand stilled and he shook his head, even though Martin couldn’t see it. “Caring is not a job, Martin. It’s just— It’s just love.”

It was silent, for a while. Jon resumed brushing his fingers through Martin’s hair, and Martin began rubbing little circles against Jon’s hip.

Eventually, as the fire was threatening to fade again, Martin broke the silence. “Did you mean what you said before?”

“Mean what?”

“About the bread.”

“I— Yes, of course.”

Martin nodded, tightening his arms around Jon a little. “I think it’s a really nice idea. Though I can’t really remembered the last time I baked.”

Jon smiled and shrugged. “We’ll figure it out.”

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up feeling a bit ramble-y to me but I hope you like it anyway! Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


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